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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28733916">Hold Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enbies_Committing_Felonies/pseuds/Enbies_Committing_Felonies'>Enbies_Committing_Felonies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Keefe needs a hug, M/M, Swearing, can be read as platonic I think, least of all the author!, light descriptions of blood, no one knows what the author is doing, when doesn't he tho?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:46:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28733916</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enbies_Committing_Felonies/pseuds/Enbies_Committing_Felonies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And then Dex was in the doorway. Keefe saw the exact moment Dex noticed the blood. His face dropped and he rushed over, rummaging in his pockets for something.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dex Dizznee &amp; Keefe Sencen, Dex Dizznee/Keefe Sencen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hold Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Keefe swung his fist wildly at the crystal wall, crying out when the cold stone made contact with his already bruised and scraped fist. But it was a cry of grim satisfaction. After all, he deserved it didn’t he? The pain and the sting. He deserved it. </p>
<p>He took a moment to breathe and look at his hands. Blood dripped from his knuckles, and he felt a dirty sort of pride. He had done that. <em>He</em> was the one tearing himself apart this time, not anyone else. Keefe just about smiled, but then the heavy feeling of despair and grief hit him.</p>
<p>Falling onto his ass at the shock of it, Keefe dragged a hand over his face and tore his other hand through his hair, not caring that his blood stained it dark red. He felt his chest tightening, and now it wasn’t satisfaction at his pain, it was guilt.</p>
<p>Guilt that he might worry his friends, guilt that he wasn’t good enough, strong enough, brave enough. He slammed his head back against the wall he was leaning on, and he began to sob. Mentally, he chided himself, but he still couldn’t stop.</p>
<p>He cried for his guilt, and the innocent boy he never got to be, he cried for the relationship he never had with his parents, and the pain he caused his friends, simply by existing. He cried for what seemed like hours. Maybe it was. Maybe it was just in his head.</p>
<p>He sobbed until his tears stopped coming, leaving him to shudder and heave as he roughly swiped his sleeve beneath his snotty nose. He almost wished that he had stopped breathing. That his chest had grown so tight that it broke inwards, and he couldn’t take another breath.</p>
<p>But every time he was disappointed. Every time his lungs drew more air in.</p>
<p>Finally he was completely still, only sniffing slightly every few minutes. His eyes were scratchy and swollen, and his lip had cracked and started bleeding sometimes during his crying session. His hands ached with bruising, and if he tried to move his fingers, the wounds he had inflicted started to crack and sting. He held his hands still after that.</p>
<p>He wondered if he would die. He wondered if he would care. There were worse places to die than an abandoned room in your abusive father’s mansion. Even if it was freezing and no one would find his body for probably weeks...</p>
<p>“Keefe?” Fuck. Dex was here.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” His voice was ragged, but he was more focused on trying to figure out how the fuck Dex had found him.</p>
<p>And then Dex was in the doorway. Keefe saw the exact moment Dex noticed the blood. His face dropped and he rushed over, rummaging in his pockets for something.</p>
<p>“Here,” He whispered gently, making Keefe’s heart ache, “I’ve got you.” In his hands was a small rag -Keefe guessed for the blood smeared in his hair and across his face, but instead Dex grabbed his hands and pulled them into his lap, nimble fingers softly dabbing and wiping until the crusted blood was gone and Keefe could move his hand with a little less pain.</p>
<p>He then moved to cleaning Keefe’ cheek, the coolness of the damp cloth making Keefe shiver. Finally he was done and he rolled back onto his heels, periwinkle eyes gazing forlornly into Keefe’s own.</p>
<p>“Keefe,” he whispered, voice breaking, “What happened?”</p>
<p>Keefe clenched his jaw. “Nothing,” he gritted out, stomach dropping at the thought of Dex realizing just how broken Keefe was.</p>
<p>“I call bull. Just let me help you Keefe!! Please, just... let me do something.” The pleading look on Dex’s face almost made Keefe want to cry again, but he shoved that feeling away and pushed himself back, away from Dex’s burning stare.</p>
<p>“You can’t help me!” He spat, tears threatening at the back of his eyelids. No on could help him, he was too far gone.</p>
<p>But Dex didn’t leave, he just positioned himself closer to Keefe’s side and sat down next to him. He was quiet for a moment before once again pulling one of Keefe’s hands into his lap, this time not to wipe away blood, but to trace comforting patterns onto.</p>
<p>“Okay,” He said softly, his voice warm, “Then can I hold you?” Keefe turned and caught the gaze of the strawberry-haired boy. It burned.</p>
<p>“Oh God,” Keefe whispered back as he gave a watery smile and rubbed his nose with his sleeve, “<em>Please</em>.”</p>
<p>Dex held him as tight as he could, and that was enough. It had to be.</p>
<p> </p>
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